Chapter 98: Chapter 99: Breaking the queen

Thorn’s pov

A woman, one of my personal whores, crawled over, pushed the girl aside without a glance. She leaned in and cleaned me with her tongue, lapping up the mess with practiced efficiency. I let her, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the hollow ache return almost immediately.

She tilted her head back, taking her mouth off my cock.

“You’re distracted,” she said.

“I’m never distracted,” I said, though the words tasted like ash.

Tonight you are.” She smiled, her teeth white against her dark lips. “Something on your mind, my king?”

I did not answer. I just watched the flames dance in the hearth, the heat of the fire matching the heat in my blood, but doing nothing to warm the cold knot in my chest.

The treaty with Dravara had been signed weeks ago. The queen had refused me, publicly, in front of her entire court. I had smiled and bowed and said all the right words, and I had returned to my kingdom with less than I had come for.

But I had not forgotten. I never forgot.

A servant approached carefully.

I saw him before he reached me. The way he moved through the room, weaving between bodies, his head bowed low in practiced submission. He knew better than to draw attention to himself. He knew better than to interrupt.

But he had been sent for a reason.

I watched him come. The woman playing with my cock tried to pull my attention back to her. I pushed her away, gently but firmly. She pouted for a moment, then turned to one of the young men at my side, who accepted her with the same practiced ease he did everything.

The servant reached me. He leaned in close, his lips almost touching my ear.

“My king,” he whispered. “News from Dravara.”

I listened.

He spoke briefly, urgently, his voice low enough that no one else could hear. The words were simple. The chambermaid found dead in the queen’s rooms. The Rendered blamed. Arrests already beginning in the lower districts. The council moving against the movement, the city tightening, the queen isolated and under pressure.

And something else. Something about the queen’s handmaiden. Under investigation. The alibi not holding. The evidence pointing toward her, though nothing confirmed.

I did not move. Did not speak. Did not let anything show on my face.

The servant waited. When I did not respond, he bowed and stepped back, disappearing into the crowd as quickly as he had appeared.

I sat in the center of the room, the chaos continuing around me, and thought.

The queen was under pressure. Her council was moving against her enemies. The Rendered were being crushed. Her handmaiden was suspected of treason. She was alone in a way that few queens ever were.

I could use this.

But not yet. Not tonight.

Tonight, there was still pleasure to be had. I suddenly felt better than before after hearing this news, I needed a good fuck to celebrate, I was going to be the one to break her, she refused me, now she will beg. I would see her brought low. I would see her on her knees.

“Fresh girls,” I barked out, the order cutting through the moans and the slap of flesh. “Bring in the fresh ones. The new batch from the villages.”

The activity in the room paused for a split second, a ripple of reaction going through the participants, before the orgy resumed with renewed intensity. Guards moved to the side doors, opening them to admit a line of young women, their eyes wide and frightened, clutching at thin shifts. They smelled of soap and hay and fear, a stark contrast to the heavy perfumes of the room.

They were herded into the center of the decadence like lambs to a slaughter, their clean skin glowing pale against the backdrop of sweat-slicked bodies and velvet. I could smell their fear, sharp and clean, cutting through the cloying musk of the room. My gaze raked over them, assessing, hunting. I pointed a finger at a small blonde girl trembling near the edge of the rug, her eyes darting around the room in panic. “Her,” I commanded. “And the redhead next to her.” Two guards stepped forward immediately, seizing the girls by their arms and dragging them toward me. They didn’t scream, but the whimpers that escaped their throts were sweeter than any music the court musicians could play. The blonde fought, her heels digging into the plush carpet, but it was useless. I was the apex predator here, and they were nothing but meat to sate my appetite.

I pulled the blonde onto my lap, ignoring the way her body went rigid with terror. She was soft, unblemished, a stark contrast to the hardened, experienced women I’d been using all night. I ran a rough hand up her thigh, pushing her skirt up to her waist, exposing the simple cotton underneath. “Please,” she whispered, her voice shaking so hard I could barely understand her. “I’ve never–”

“You will,” I growled, cutting her off. I didn’t have the patience for gentleness. I gripped her hips and positioned her over my aching cock, still slick from the last whore. I forced her down, the head of my dick breaching her tight, dry entrance. She cried out, a jagged sound of pain that shot straight to my groin, and I groaned at the friction. She was impossibly tight, a hot vice that gripped me like a fist. I didn’t give her time to adjust; I just pulled her down further, splitting her open, burying myself to the hilt in her untouched warmth.

The redhead was shoved to her knees beside us, her face level with where we were joined. A guard grabbed her hair, forcing her head down. “Watch,” he ordered. “Watch how a King takes what he wants.” I set a brutal rhythm, lifting the blonde up and slamming her back down, the wet slap of our skin echoing in the sudden hush of our corner of the room. Her tears were hot against my neck, her body convulsing with the shock of the invasion, and I fed on it. I looked down at the redhead, her eyes wide and glossy with shock, and grinned.

“Get ready,” I rasped, my breath coming in short, sharp bursts as the pleasure built to a breaking point. “You’re next.” The power was a drug, rushing through my veins, cold and exhilarating. I was going to ruin them, and then I was going to ruin the Queen who thought she could defy me.

The redhead’s whimper was music to my ears, a soft, broken sound that barely rose above the wet, rhythmic slapping of flesh. I didn’t wait any longer. With a rough shove, I pushed the sobbing blonde off my lap, her body collapsing onto the carpet like a discarded doll, and yanked the redhead toward me by her hair. She didn’t fight; the fight had been beaten out of her the moment the doors opened.

I spun her around, bending her over the velvet chaise lounge, her face inches from the blonde’s heaving, tear-streaked back. I gripped the redhead’s hips, her pale skin bruising instantly under my fingers, and lined my slick, throbbing cock up with her entrance. She was trembling violently, a vibration that traveled through my hands and spiked my adrenaline.

I drove forward in one merciless thrust, burying myself deep inside her tight, unprepared heat. She screamed, her back arching as she was split open, her hands scrabbling for purchase on the velvet. I leaned over her, my chest pressing against her spine, and bit down hard on her shoulder, tasting the salt of her fear. “Take it,” I growled, my voice muffled against her skin. “This is what you’re for.”

The pleasure was a jagged, burning edge, stripping away the last of my restraint. I set a punishing pace, withdrawing almost entirely before slamming back in, the force of my thrusts driving the girl’s face into the cushions. Her screams turned to choked, sobbing gasps, her body limp and yielding under my assault. Around us, the orgy had resumed, a chaotic backdrop of moans and slapping skin, but it was all just noise. My focus was narrowed down to the tight grip of her cunt, the friction burning along my length, the way her body jerked with every impact.

I could feel the pressure building at the base of my spine, a tight knot of ecstasy that demanded release. I reached around, finding her clit, and pinched it cruelly, just to feel her spasm around me. She didn’t climax; she simply seized up, her muscles locking down on my cock like a vice. The sensation was electric, pushing me closer to the edge. “Look at her,” I snarled, forcing her head up to look at the blonde girl still weeping on the floor. “That’s you next. You’re both just holes for me to use.”

With a guttural roar, I emptied myself into the redhead, my hips slamming against her ass as I rode out the waves of my climax. I held myself there for a long moment, buried deep inside her, feeling the aftershocks ripple through her trembling body. Then, with a dismissive shove, I pulled out and pushed her off the chaise, sending her sprawling to the floor beside the blonde. I stood up, my chest heaving, my body slick with sweat and the fluids of strangers. The room spun slightly, the heat and the excess finally starting to take their toll, but my mind was clearer than it had been in weeks. The hollow ache was gone, replaced by a cold, sharp purpose. I signaled for a servant to bring wine, watching dispassionately as the two girls huddled together on the floor, crying softly. They were broken, used, and forgotten. And soon, Queen Dravara would be too.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep